


The Invisible Nightclub by Day

by storm_queen



Category: The Library (Fictional TV Show)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 04:10:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1331428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_queen/pseuds/storm_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly everyone in the Free People’s World Tree Library could do magic of some sort or another. Prophecy was a rarer gift, and it came at a price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Invisible Nightclub by Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bliumchik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bliumchik/gifts).



> Contains descriptions of past violence, but Hopefully not too graphic.

Nearly everyone in the Free People’s World Tree Library could do magic of some sort or another. Prophecy was a rarer gift, and it came at a price. Which was how Fox found herself wheeling a book cart down to the mezzanine, loaded with a case of Euphoria, a small box containing a diamond brooch, and a potted carnivorous plant of dubious legality. She had disembarked from the elevator and had a clear line of sight to the Invisible Nightclub. It was now or never.

“What have we here, a Toothsome Drosera?” a voice sounded in her ear, and Fox started guiltily. Prince Wing and Faithful Margaret had appeared behind her with an uncharacteristic amount of stealth, and Prince Wing was examining the contents of her cart with an unsettling amount of interest.

“I thought those had all been uprooted after the hunting accident,” Margaret mused. She reached a finger out to the Drosera, coming nearly close enough to be bitten before Prince Wing caught the endangered hand and gave it a rakish kiss.

“Uprooted, yes. Some were then… repotted,” Fox said. The letter of the decree remained intact.

“And what could incite a normally law-abiding librarian-magician to wheel contraband around the Library at daybreak?” teased Faithful Margaret. 

Fox remained silent, but her location gave everything away. 

“She’s going to see the Norns, of course,” Prince Wing said. His voice was neutral, which Fox supposed she appreciated; his disdain for prophecy was legendary.

“Ohhhhh,” Margaret breathed. Her hair sparked with interest. “What are you going to ask about?”

“The future,” Fox answered honestly.

“Fine, then, be mysterious,” Margaret said, removing her hand from Prince Wing’s in order to wave it airily. “See if I care. Can we come in with you?”

“I don’t know if that’s wise…” Fox began.

“I thought you didn’t believe in destiny,” Prince Wing interrupted, turning to Faithful Margaret. He sounded a little put out, to think she could disagree with him on something so fundamental.

Fox took advantage of the moment to speed up. She had her cart nearly to the doors of the nightclub, with the others still several paces behind.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I do believe in safety in numbers,” Margaret said, neatly forestalling any further disagreement on Prince Wing’s part. 

Fox gave a solid knock on the door. It opened almost immediately, revealing the youngest Norn. She was the quietest, never singing with the others, simply playing a dog toy in each hand. Her hair was almost as red as Margaret’s.

Fox wasn’t sure what to say, but the Norn - Cassandra? Melisandre? Fox could never keep their names straight - looked at the cart, nodded, and opened the door wider to allow Fox to wheel it inside.

“Wait!” Faithful Margaret and Prince Wing had caught up to them in the interval. Prince Wing was quite obviously still opposed to the whole idea, but everyone knew he would follow Faithful Margaret anywhere.

The Norn looked them up and down, then spoke. Her voice was a whisper like honey-coated flies, trying and failing to extricate themselves from her mouth. “It’s unfortunate that you did not bring an offering,” she said. “But I will grant your admission, for three locks of your hair.”

Fox’s heart unclenched a little at that. Three locks of anyone’s hair would be enough to work a powerful magic on that person. Three locks of Margaret’s hair would do far more than that. The price was too steep.

“What did you want to know, anyway?” Prince Wing asked, as Margaret stared dumbfounded. “Whether you will ever marry? Whether you’ll run off with a wild Bear Cult priest?” He lifted his hand to her hair, probably to pull it teasingly, but it sparked in warning and he jerked his hand away.

Fox bestowed her friends with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised. She pushed the cart forward into the Invisible Nightclub, and the door shut behind her, sealing itself. It wouldn’t be visible again until Fox’s business here was done.

The Invisible Nightclub by day was gray and quiet, the overhead lights turned out, dawn creeping in through the transom windows that the neon shades didn’t quite cover. The stage was empty, save for the enchanted bathtub, which was impractical to move between sets.

“Have a seat,” the youngest Norn said. “I’ll get the others.”

Fox took a seat at the bar, her back to the wall, and watched for the Norns to return through the swinging saloon doors. Her wait wasn’t long.

The oldest Norn’s eyes had been cut out in a particularly gruesome duel with a Forbidden Book. At least, that was the story;it had occurred long before Fox had ever come to the Mezzanine, so she had no knowledge of its veracity. Still, it was the oldest Norn who found her way to the cart instantly, picking up the offerings with consideration and approval.

Fox’s intelligence had been good - not that she had doubted it - and her gifts met with success. The oldest Norn passed off the diamond brooch to the Norn who played the enchanted bathtub. The youngest Norn took possession of the case of Euphoria. And the oldest Norn sat in front of the Toothsome Drosera, stroking it in just such a way as to avoid making contact with its teeth.

“You come to us with questions,” the oldest Norn said.

Fox knew that she had only one chance for each question, and she had to phrase them carefully.

“I would like to know the locations of three Forbidden Books,” she said, and the Norns all drew in their breaths as one.

“The first book,” Fox continued, “is the book that gave birth to the Chasm of Crepusculence.”

The youngest Norn took a piece of paper and a pencil from her bosom. She scribbled a series of symbols, too small for Fox to see. She did not hand it over when she had finished. 

“The book you seek is in a place called Iowa,” she said. “It is outside the walls of the Library.”

“How can I reach it?” Fox asked, knowing she might not have brought a great enough gift to ask a second question.

The Norn smiled at her. “You cannot reach it,” she said. “You must rely on the kindnesses of strangers.”

“What strangers?” Fox asked, but the Norn shook her head. Fox knew when she had been defeated.

She angled her body to the elder two Norns. “The second book is the Book of Lies,” she said.

The Norn who played the enchanted bathtub answered her next, taking the piece of paper from the youngest Norn and continuing to write.

“This second book is also in Iowa,” she said. She looked up at Fox without smiling, but her eyes were kind. “You will discover, soon enough, that you cannot trust those closest to you. The strangers you seek are beyond the walls of the Library.”

“I don’t know how to go outside,” Fox said. Admitting it made her feel small in a way that was very unfamiliar, and, she decided, very, _very_ unpleasant.

No one answered her. So she turned to the oldest Norn, the blind Norn, who still sat stroking the Drosera.

“The last book I am looking for is the book who cut out your eyes,” she said. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the audacity of the request beating loud as it echoed in her own ears.

The oldest Norn betrayed no reactions. She lifted her hand from the Toothsome Drosera, took the piece of paper from her sister, and continued the writing.

“The last book you seek is also in Iowa, as you may have guessed by now,” she said. “And you needn’t worry about finding your way out of the Library.” She put down the pencil, then slid the paper across the bar to Fox. “When the time comes for you to leave, you will be carried.”

Fox looked at the paper. Small black numbers littered it. They looked like jewelly festival numbers, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Who will carry me?” she asked, but she knew before the words left her lips that this final question would remain unanswered.

“Too much knowledge can disturb your destiny,” said the youngest Norn. “Just remember one thing: everybody wants to rule the world.”

The oldest Norn stood, and the three of them walked back through the saloon doors together, leaving Fox alone, armed only with a piece of paper and the knowledge that everything was about to change.


End file.
